


Julian Bashir's Talented Tongue

by Xenobotanist



Series: Mouths are for More than Monologues [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassian Anatomy, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Jump Right In, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: If the title and tags aren't enough to figure out what this is, I don't know what to tell you.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Mouths are for More than Monologues [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921744
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	Julian Bashir's Talented Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> \- The anatomical terms mostly come from tinsnip’s Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology, although I took a little liberty here or there with details and coloration. Tinsnip, if you’re out there somewhere, I hope this doesn’t disappoint.  
> \- Do a Google image search for “alligator skin” for the rest. :P

Julian rested his hands on the gray, patterned thighs on each side of his head. He traced his thumbs slowly down the scales, then back up again, delighting in the tremble of muscle beneath them. The scales here were so fine as to be nearly smooth skin, and just as sensitive as a human’s. Where the thighs joined, the scales became larger. Row after vertical row of small, round plates gave way to more angular ones, which in turn grew broader the more inward the eyes traveled. Towards the center were rectangular scutes, darker gray than the rest, with pale lines separating them.

Julian blew a fine wisp of air at them, watching the muscles beneath clench before the flesh swelled slightly, pulling apart the lips of a long sheath, the _ajan_. There was a faintest glimpse of grayish-coral inside, shining in the low light. He blew again and watched the gluteal mounds below tense, lifting the body in front of him slightly before releasing. He leaned forward, taking in a deep, intoxicating breath. It was metallic and musky, with just a hint of sweet. Like a storm building over the seashore, when you open your mouth and receive the first drop of rain. Eager for the taste, he pressed in, touching his tongue to the very base of the slit, licking upward slowly, savoring the feel of scales passing the tip. Elim hissed, releasing on a startled exhalation. Julian repeated the gesture, this time a little further inward, lapping at the slick flesh inside.

A crash sounded somewhere to his right, where a statue had been knocked from the bedside table. Smiling wickedly, he waggled his tongue up and down, never leaving the entrance. Elim’s hand slapped the table’s surface twice before clenching into a fist. Julian gripped the legs in his hands, immobilizing them before his next move. He pushed his mouth to the parting mounds, exhaling into the space. The skin inside rippled, releasing a small trickle of wetness over his bottom lip. He thrust his tongue inward as far as it would go. The fist on the bedside table pounded weakly as he plunged in and out, hinting of things to come not so far in the future. Elim began to pant, interspersed with hisses as his other hand grabbed blindly at the sheets.

Julian withdrew for a moment, replacing his tongue with fingers. He lifted up on his elbows until he was just above the _ajan._ Here was a raised, round ridge, creating an inverted teardrop, called the _chuva_. There was a depression in the middle that had flushed dark charcoal. His inserted fingers made a delicate circling motion as he used his tongue to trace the ridge in a mirroring movement. The breathing sounds grew harsh and gasping as he flicked back and forth. 

His eyes glanced up, admiring the curve of the chin raised toward the ceiling, all he could see of the head that had been thrown back in pleasure. He curled and uncurled his fingers inside the slick walls of the _ajan_ before licking inside the _chuva_ , and that was when Elim’s back finally arched.

Judging that the time was ripe, he extended his digits deeper until they brushed against the tucked away _prUt._ It leapt at his touch. He coaxed it, tracing the surface with his fingertips. He wrapped his lips around the _chuva_ , rubbing the top surface of his tongue into the dip. He stopped as he felt the _prUt_ push forward and evert, coming to rest where his chin had just been. The smooth gray organ curved upward, bobbing with the harried breaths and glistening with lubrication. Julian wasted no time pushing back up and taking it into his mouth. He constricted his cheeks around it, creating suction, massaging up and down with his tongue. But the important part was the base. He pursed his lips, tightening them around the _irllun_. Finally, _finally_ a strained “Ah-agh!” sounded from Elim.

Now, he wrapped his lips over his teeth, covering them as he nibbled at the ring of nerve-infused flesh. He kept it up as the body beneath him began to writhe. For the _piece de resistance,_ he wiggled his jaw back and forth, twisting the base of the _prUt_ while pushing his fingers back inside and vigorously sliding them in and out. The hisses and cries rose to a frenzied crescendo under the assault until Elim’s body attempted to fling itself to the side, prevented only by the one hand still bracing his thigh. He came all at once, filling Julian’s mouth while emitting a roar that almost drowned out the sound of claw-like nails shredding the sheets. Julian swallowed the nearly-tasteless glob before pulling away and smiling in satisfaction. He leaned back onto his feet, giving his knees a brief respite and watching the flustered Cardassian come back down to earth. Or space station, as the case may be.

After a minute or two, Elim caught his breath. “My dear, I do believe that’s the first argument you’ve won.”

Julian crawled up the bed to lie next to his lover, peering down adoringly at the blissful face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you let me win.”

**Author's Note:**

> Someday, I'll illustrate this. But today is not that day.


End file.
